


Inevitability

by Zappy



Series: Mila Verse [11]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zappy/pseuds/Zappy
Summary: Garak sometimes slips back into his nocturnal nature, and takes advantage of the solitude to deal with recent events.





	Inevitability

Time on the station was a very fluid thing. Sure, they ran on Bajor’s 26 hours a day, but without any sun to revolve around and not even a planet to judge time with, it was all just a figment of imagination. Night and Day were just concepts, they had no real effect on anything going on on the station aside from what the general populous allowed them to.

And yet, for all that night and day were literally no different, Garak found himself still slipping into a ‘nocturnal’ mindset whenever he didn’t have appointments to keep. Such as when he had a project to complete, and the rest of the station were either deep in sleep or wishing they were, Garak was up, sewing away.

He was working on a new outfit, insulating it in fact. Which was a rare request. Very few found this station as cold as Garak did, though of course the one other inhabitant who did…

“Mila. Really, Garak, what were you _thinking_ putting that name in that blasted list that Doctor Bashir asked from you? Ten names. You couldn’t think of ten _other_ Cardassian names? Oh no, you just _had_ to tempt fate and put _Mila_ on there. And list the definition as _beloved_ , because that made it _all_ better didn’t it.” Garak grumbled to himself as he sewed, a habit he’d fallen into in his solitude that he really ought to try and get rid of, but that he hadn’t found the will to do as of yet.

The dress was a rather eye-searing orange, a color very few could actually pull off, and Mila certainly wasn’t one of them. Yet it was her favorite color, and when she asked for it with those big brown eyes, Garak found himself agreeing before he knew he was doing so. Honestly, for no biological connection whatsoever, Mila’s fashion sense was as bad as the doctor’s. Perhaps it was a learned trait…

“Pray that’s the case, because then maybe someday you have a chance to make them _un_ learn it.” Garak stabbed himself and swore, bringing the small wound to his lips with a huff. He stared at his work, impeccable, as always, and certainly Mila would absolutely adore it. She was rarely displeased with any of his work, even on the rare moment he refused to do it the way she envisioned. She truly was a very warm person, for all that she was often colder than he was.

“Hybrid Cardassian-Bajoran. Mixture of disaster, is what it is. Vulnerable to diseases either race might be immune to, incapable of having children, dry skin that needs moisturizing at least once a day, and to top it all off- _insufficient body heat regulation_! The only person to find this damned station as miserable as you do, and of course that only makes it _worse_ because she deserves every comfort possible!” Garak stopped his ranting to himself in shock. Had he just said that?

He set down his tools and the nearly finished sunset orange dress he was making. Free of charge. For a child that wasn’t his, but that he’d claimed to be. A child he’d essentially named. A child who called him _Yadik_ and made him smile sincerely for the first time in years. A child…who he was discovering he was weak against, with those doleful brown eyes that looked up at him with nothing but warmth. Not a trace of fear or wariness. Only bright smiles and eager looks and such a will to learn from him…

Garak put his face in his hands and leaned against his worktable.

“What have I done?”


End file.
